


Forget-me-nots

by Acamellia



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Heartbreak, Memory Loss, Other, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acamellia/pseuds/Acamellia
Summary: Stumbling upon a field of flowers you are certain wasn't there before, what happens when you follow the feeling that you should explore it, and remembering something that you didn't know that you forgot.
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character





	Forget-me-nots

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first work here. I'm not sure how much attention it will draw as an original work, but I am rather proud of it so I hope that you enjoy it as much as I do!  
> Please excuse any formatting errors, as I'm not familiar with this platform yet.  
> (I have almost no experience with dialogue so please excuse that as well, sorry!)

I fell asleep in a field of forget-me-not flowers. I found it while I was taking a walk-- while I was running away from the things that I’d rather not think about and rather not do. It's funny that I can’t recall ever seeing this sprawling field of blue just off of the trail behind that old townhouse. But I found it there, ethereal and glowing in the golden morning rays of sunlight. I stopped mid-step as I took in the pale blue beauty of that sea of flowers; that kind of sight is something that makes your breath catch in your lungs and reshapes itself into a desperate kind of awestruck excitement. Something in that beauty, that feeling of otherworldliness melted the thoughts lingering in my troubled mind as I stepped onto the surface of that sea of blue. Each step left an indentation in the previously untouched flower bed; it was as if the flowers wanted to remember each step that I took. I think I was grateful for their remembrance-- I had my own trail of breadcrumbs if I lost my way-- because I realized as I ventured further that the flowers spanned seemingly endlessly towards the horizon. I should have felt scared, yet my body responded with a new burst of energy. I kept walking into the middle of the sea of baby blue, with no end goal in mind.

  
After a long while of walking, I stopped. I had reached the end of my path, although there was nothing here, nor there, nor anywhere. Just the flowers beneath my feet and the sky above that seemed to be reflected by the flowers sprouting from the soil. I had reached my destination, somewhere in that endless field of sky. I reached my destination and I sat down, leaning back until I was lying there among the small flower buds. I could see each petal of the gentle flowers with my face so close to them. Somehow they looked lonely. I closed my eyes and tried to feel with them, to learn what makes a flower sorrowful. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Except this time there was no blue sky above. No puffs of clouds.  
Instead, there was darkness. The soft kind of darkness that comes with the shade of something placed over the eyes. It was as if I hadn’t opened my eyes at all. There was the sensation of something placed over my head. I lifted one arm up to feel for the offending object and removed a hat which I had not possessed before, revealing the familiar blue sky above. It was the type of hat one would wear on a sunny summer evening. The floppy kind with a wide brim.

  
In the midst of my confusion, I hadn’t noticed the presence beside me in the field of forget-me-nots. I should have been startled at least, terrified at most. But instead, I felt curiosity flow through me. The stranger looked ahead, their eyes gazing out over the lonely flowers, seemingly unaware of my struggle beside them-- or perhaps they did not care. Setting the hat beside me, I turned toward the stranger again.

  
“Who are you?” I asked them softly, as if not to scare them. Without turning, they replied,  
“It doesn’t matter. Not to you.”

  
They said this in a way that made my heart clench violently. Something in their words, their voice said more than their lips and my heart heard it louder than my ears. I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked them, “Why not?”

  
Finally, they turned to face me, their eyes glossy but not tearful, with a look that I cannot place. A deep emotion that can’t be described or illustrated, the type of thing that you have to see-- have to feel. They looked into my eyes and further still, with a pain that I felt break my heart as if to reflect their own.

They spoke, quietly, with words dripping in hurt, “You won’t remember.”

  
And to that, I had no real reply. However, my mouth moved on its own, “How can you tell?”

  
They turned their eyes down and began to pick at the small flowers between us.

“You never have,” They plucked a clump of the forget-me-nots from the soil, picking flowers from their stems and tearing out their delicate petals, “You never will.”

  
And as I heard those words, I understood. I had been here many times, among the forget-me-nots with this stranger that I know, or have known, or will never know. I understood that even if I had never known this person before me, they knew me, and they loved me. My broken heart sat heavy in my chest as we sat in silence.

  
“Did I ever know you?” I asked the stranger with a voice that no longer sounded like mine. The stranger looked at the horizon yet again, this time it was reflected on their face in thin streaks.

  
“You did,” They seemed to struggle with their own words, their shoulders shook slightly as they took a deep breath, “Better than anyone.”

  
My mouth felt dry. I clenched clumps of tiny flowers in my hands.

  
“Did I love you?” I asked, my own lips struggling to form my words. The stranger that I know looked me in my eyes again. This time they were not dry.

  
“More than anything.” They only spoke a few words, but I know that they meant every one. I licked my dry lips. My heart leaped with a surge of desperation.

  
“Can I stay here with you?” My voice broke, and my breath came in gasps as I felt my chest clench in pain again. The stranger reached one hand up to cup my cheek, their thumb wiping tears that I didn’t know I had shed. My vision cleared again, their palm still flush against my cheek. I watched them part their lips to speak, watched them quiver, watched that stranger gulp and finally shake their head.

  
I blinked, for just a fraction of a second, my eyes were closed, and when I opened them I was sitting in a field of little, fragile blue flowers, along the trail behind the old townhouse. I regarded them with interest. I looked down at them and they were fuzzy, blurred by unshed tears in my eyes. Confused, I wiped them away, plucking a single forget-me-not from the countless buds. Somehow, it looked lonely-- lonely and endlessly sorrowful.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is my very first time posting my original work so please be kind! I'm more than willing to hear any feedback you might have, so long as it is respectful and constructive! Thank you :D


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